


[00:00:10]

by rintaroumance



Series: after midnight, when the sun goes down [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, First Kiss, Konoha Akinori i have FEELINGS for you, M/M, New Year's Eve, and they were neighbors, i wrote this fic for selfish reasons, konoha is a little bit of a panicked gay, oh my god they were neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rintaroumance/pseuds/rintaroumance
Summary: “do you have a new year's kiss?”“no,” konoha said.  a chuckle escaped his lips as he took a sip of his beer. it was lukewarm. “of course I don’t.”“do you want one?”(in which konoha is invited to spend new years eve in the company of his neighbour instead of drinking alone in his living room)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Konoha Akinori
Series: after midnight, when the sun goes down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796536
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82





	[00:00:10]

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i have fallen head over heels for konoha and wanted to be self indulgent—so here we are. i'm surprised there isn't a lot of fic abt konoha when he's so [clutches whole chest]
> 
> m, thank you for always listening to my stupid nonsense and letting me yell at you in DMs bc it’s always you and me in rarepair hell xoxo. also thank u gremlin gc for dealing with my ramblings for my undying love for konoha <3
> 
> (lowkey based off an experience i had at new years)

The end of the year always made Konoha feel some kind of way. The week leading up to the new year felt especially odd. It was as if the world were suspended in time. Days blurred together with the only end in sight being the ten second countdown.

His plans to go home for the long weekend had fallen through, which had left him to spend New Years Eve alone. The thought of sleeping through the strike of midnight was tempting, but he eventually decided against it. He figured that he might as well watch the fireworks from his couch; and was sure the celebrations from the adjacent apartments would keep him up regardless.

He made it home from work before the evening rush. He kicked off his shoes by the door, shimmied out of his work clothes and into something more comfortable as he tried to come up with a plan for his rather sorry evening.

It was warm out. A strange kind of a comforting breeze came through his veranda door. The forecast predicted no showers. As he looked up he was met with a clear sky.

He could order in—or rather, he _should_ —he thought as he looked at the sparse contents of his fridge. Beside the evident lack of food, there was also a lack of alcohol save for the two cans of beer that were hidden away for late evening wind-downs. Even if he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate, he might as well keep the tradition of cracking a cold one alive.

Konoha sniffed at the collar of his shirt, not too sure when it had last seen the wash. It didn’t smell anywhere near rancid, which was a good tell-tale sign, and was deemed good enough to wear out. A quick pat down of his pockets had him checking off the essentials—keys, wallet—before he slid into his shoes and out the door.

With hands buried into his pockets, Konoha walked down the street in lethargy. His family was disappointed he couldn’t come back home in time, but there was little he could do. The flights had sold out before he could even think about booking them. With everything added up, it was the first New Years he would spend alone. Konoha frowned before he shook his head to clear his thoughts as he stood at the traffic light and pressed the button with his elbow.

The city was alive, excited for a fresh start and the promise of new beginnings. The shoulders of strangers bumped into his own as he made his way over the pedestrian crossing and onto the adjacent block. With the supermarket in sight, his pace quickened.

An array of groceries resided in the shopping bag looped over his arm. He thought intensely about the discounted special he got on the two packets of chips currently in his possession. Two for the price of one—a grand saving of three dollars. _Any money saved is money saved,_ his mother would say if she were in his position.

He hummed to himself and rocked briefly on the balls of his feet before he was off again. The destination wasn’t far, a mere few paces over. He ducked his head as he stepped into the _Bottle-O_ , eyes wandering. He picked up a basket from the stack by the entryway and nestled the handle into his free hand.

A familiar chill settled into his bones as he stalked The refrigerated isles. He almost wished that he brought a jacket, even if the weather outside was too warm for it.

It was hard to pick things up with two full hands, but after some juggling he managed to get a hefty bottle of _Russian Standard_ Vodka off of the shelf and into his basket. He eyed the _Smirnoff Ice_ that resided further down the aisle and remembered how it tasted the last time he got shit-faced. His thoughts came to a stop at the hand of a stranger that reached out for the one of the six-packs on the shelves. His eyes then traveled and followed the outstretched arm to its owner.

Familiarity took the form of black hair, a worn-grey pullover and skinny jeans.

Konoha had seen that face before. Sometimes they took the elevator together. At others they would run into each other at the supermarket. They lived in the same building, he knew that much; it was also the only thing Konoha knew about him. He wore glasses, too. The refrigerator lights glinted off his lenses and through the clear, plastic frames. A pale wash of fluorescents caressed his skin. A frown etched onto his face. Then, his head turned and his eyes met Konoha’s own. A flash of recognition made Konoha stiffen, even as his neighbour relaxed under the weight of his stare.

“Hey,” he said, voice pleasant in the otherwise empty store. It had been the first time they spoke. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hi,” Konoha replied after he managed to find his voice. He cleared his throat and readjusted the bag of groceries in his hand. “You look deep in thought there.”

A sigh was accompanied by the slight drooping of shoulders. “I was given the responsibility of buying alcohol. But it’s hard to remember everyone’s tastes… It’s rather unhelpful to be told _‘buy whatever’_ when I apparently have the taste of an old man.”

Konoha snorted. “And what does an old man like you drink?”

“Gin and tonic.”

“Gross.” Konoha said with thin lips. “Well for starters, those _Double Blacks_ are a good choice. If you have any lightweights it would probably be worth investing in some _Cruisers_.”

“I take it that you’re not one of those then.”

“One of which?”

“A lightweight. You have a rather impressive bottle of vodka in your arm.”

Konoha looked down into his basket, already having forgotten what he’d put in there. “I don’t really plan on remembering tonight so might as well,” he finished with a shrug.

It earned him a laugh. His lips curled into a grin. “What a way to start the new year. Do you have anything planned for the night?”

“Not really. I mean, I guess I do? But getting drunk alone while watching the fireworks sounds rather pathetic to say out loud.” Konoha sighed. It did sound rather pathetic. Maybe he should speed this process along so that he could get a head start on said plans. “Anyway, uh…”

“Akaashi Keiji,” he said as if he could read Konoha’s thoughts. “I live on the eighth floor.” It was the same floor Konoha lived on.

“Konoha Akinori,” he offered his own name in response. “Well then, Akaashi Keiji from the eighth floor, I believe I must be going. This bottle of vodka isn’t going to finish itself.”

He walked forward then, his shoulder bumping into Akaashi’s as he reached for a pack of _Smirnoff Ice_ to dump into his basket alongside the _Russian Standard_. He felt Akaashi looking at him from his peripheral. The aisle suddenly felt a few degrees warmer. Konoha stepped a safe distance away and hoped that the warmth would drain from his body. The expression on Akaashi’s face was evident that he was thinking something over. Konoha raised a brow, waiting.

“My neighbour is having a small get together,” Akaashi began. “Do you want to come?”

In whatever he thought Akaashi was going to say, that was not an offer he expected. Konoha parted his lips before they stretched into a thin line, not sure on how to respond. It took several moments of prolonged silence for Konoha to come up with a lacklustre reply. “Sorry, what?”

“My neighbour is hosting a gathering for New Years Eve. It’s nothing special, just some company and alcohol amongst other pleasantries. Would you like to come?” Akaashi explained again.

“I- thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I can just intrude like that.”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi said. “I’m sure Kuroo-san would be fine with it.”

“I’m sure _Kuroo-san_ wouldn’t want a stranger crashing his party,” Konoha frowned.

“We’re not exactly strangers though, are we?” Akaashi said with a tilt of his head. “I’m sure you and Kuroo-san have run into each other at least once before. He’s rather memorable—extremely tall, bad hair, looks like he’s half asleep?”

Konoha looked up in thought. A vague image was painted in his mind, but it was nothing concrete. “I don’t know, It seems awfully rude. I wasn’t exactly given an invite.”

“I’m inviting you. It’s not like you’re inviting yourself.”

“Well, yes but—“

He was cut off by Akaashi’s huff. Konoha blinked back at him and watched as Akaashi pulled out his phone. There was a quick frantic typing of his fingers and after a few moments of silence, a notification pinged into the aisle. A soft glow was cast against Akaashi’s skin. Konoha was mesmerised by the reflection of his screen in his glasses. Akaashi’s lips quirked up into a grin. He met Konoha’s eyes and held his phone out into the space between them. Konoha focused on the messages displayed on the screen. Akaashi’s face was now blurred behind his hand.

**_To: Kuroo-san_ **   
**_[Subject: tonight]_ **  
_>_ _Can I bring company?_

**_From: Kuroo-san_ **   
**_[RE: tonight]_ **  
_> Sure thing._  
_> Kou’s coming late btw._

“See. Told you it would be fine.”

An ellipses bumped the chat up. The speech bubble pulsated and another chime emitted from Akaashi’s phone when _Kuroo-san_ sent another text. “Kuroo-san asked for you to buy tequila and a bag of ice.”

Akaashi pulled his phone away from Konoha’s face and typed another reply before it was shoved into his pocket a moment later. Akaashi turned on his heel and started walking in the vague direction of the spirits. Konoha wasn’t sure whether to follow or not, and his composure faltered when Akaashi looked over his shoulder. His glasses slid down his nose a fraction. He pushed it up with his forefinger and a scrunch of his nose. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, um… sure?” he said dumbly and cursed under his breath shortly afterward for sounding lame.

An array of tequila brands span the length of the shelf. Akaashi picked up bottles to inspect the label and alcohol percentages as Konoha stood awkwardly at his side, unsure if he was supposed to say anything.

“You never gave me an answer,” Akaashi said after sometime.

Konoha startled. “What answer?”

“About tonight. Did you want to come? Or are you still planning on starting the new year drunk and alone?” It was a weak insult, watered down by a teasing grin that made Konoha’s grip slip a little. Akaashi delicately placed a skull-shaped tequila bottle into his basket and winced slightly as it clinked against the other bottles there.

Konoha mulled over his thoughts. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? It would be nice to be familiar with the other people in his building since he hadn’t really made the effort to get to know his neighbours since he moved in a couple of months ago. It took several moments for Konoha to formulate a reply. “Okay,” he said after some time. “Sure. Thank you for the invite, Akaashi.”

Something short of a smile blossomed onto Akaashi’s face. “Don’t worry about it, Konoha-san. It’ll be fun.”

They left the _Bottle-O_ in succession, and exited back out onto the street in the late afternoon. It was still warm out, still pleasant, as was Akaashi’s company beside him. Their bags rustled together as they walked, falling into step and easy conversation. Konoha wondered why they hadn’t spoken before despite having crossed paths many times. Regardless, it was a good change of pace.

Akaashi rambled on about his New Year's resolutions; of wanting to travel more, be more adventurous, maybe start going back to the gym, pick up knitting. Konoha talked of the distant promise of a promotion, looking forward to the raise, maybe getting a pet to make his apartment feel less empty and more lived in. Akaashi suggested getting a cat. Konoha shook his head, he was allergic.

“Maybe a fish then,” Akaashi suggested. “It would be nice to have a few goldfish in a tank.”

It didn’t sound like a bad idea. Perhaps he should look into that. Akaashi didn’t have any pets, but had a hands-on childhood friend who came pretty close. Konoha laughed at that. Akaashi laughed, too. It was a pleasant sound, much like the weather. Warm and airy.

“It’s not gross, by the way,” Akaashi began once they stepped back into their apartment complex.

“What is?”

“Gin and tonic. It’s not gross. You just have a bad palette.”

“It tastes like burnt lemon,” Konoha said with distaste.

Akaashi frowned. “That’s what makes it nice.”

The elevator took several minutes to reach the ground floor. People filtered out through the doors before they could step inside. Konoha’s reflection stared back at him in the mirror-lined walls. He jostled the plastic bags in his hands, suddenly very aware of their weight.

Akaashi’s free hand hovered over the elevator buttons, a slender finger punched in the button for the eighth floor. He looked at Konoha from over his shoulder. “What floor are you headed to?”

“Eighth.”

“So, we do live on the same floor,” Akaashi grinned. He leaned against the wall as they were set in motion. “Which number are you?”

“Seven. You?”

“Five.”

“And Kuroo-san?”

“One.”

They were all close in proximity. Maybe if Konoha paid better attention, he would have noticed who actually lived around him. He had no idea who his next door neighbours were, and was unsure if he had ever seen anyone leave the apartments on either side of him. It was good to know that Akaashi was only a short distance away.

The elevator halted to a stop. The floor shifted, a dull creak in the doors as they parted open. He followed Akaashi out into the hall and toward his apartment.

He set his shopping by the door and fished for his keys in his pocket. He slid his key into the door and turned the lock.

“Konoha-san?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it might be beneficial for us to exchange numbers, that way I can tell you the details for tonight?”

Konoha blinked back at him. “Oh, yeah. Good point.”

He patted down his pants and panicked briefly at the emptiness of his front pockets, only to flush slightly when Akaashi pointed out his phone sticking out of his back pocket. With fumbling hands he reached for his phone, unlocked it and with the _‘add new contact’_ option open, he held it out for Akaashi to take.

Akaashi’s fingers brushed over his own as they exchanged devices. The backs of Konoha’s hands tingled from where they touched and he punched his number into Akaashi’s phone, saved under _"Konoha Akinori"_.

When he got his own phone back, he snorted. Akaashi's number was saved as _“ **Name:** Akaashi Keiji. **Company:** Apartment 5, Eighth Floor._” He had some wit. Konoha wished he could reciprocate it.

“I’ll text you,” Akaashi said. “Don’t leave your phone on silent.”

Konoha chuckled. “I wouldn’t plan on it.”

They parted ways then. Konoha stepped into his apartment and struggled to step out of his shoes before he staggered into his living room and made a beeline for the kitchen, groceries in hand. Once the bags were unpacked and the alcohol was chilling in the fridge he flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders back, wanting to get the sensation of feeling back into them again. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair.

He stewed over an open cup of instant noodles and burnt his tongue before he quickly rushed to soothe the discomfort with some water and winced at the tenderness. He slid back into his seat and poked his tongue out in an attempt to relax the throbbing in the air.

He was sure that Akaashi could have simply told him the details verbally, rather than asking for his number. It was easy enough to remember a time and place, considering that the time was tonight and the place was six doors down. But it could definitely do no harm, having Akaashi’s number.

His tongue felt better, the soreness was now diluted to a dull throb that was more bearable than extreme discomfort. As he stood, the thought of having a shower was rather enticing but his thoughts were disrupted when his phone vibrated across the table and caught his attention. A text message from Akaashi floated at the top of his notifications.

_ **From: Akaashi Keiji** _  
_**[Subject: Details]** _  
_> Konoha-san, it’s Akaashi._  
_> We are meeting at Kuroo-san’s_  
_apartment at 8:30pm._  
_> There isn’t any specific dress code._  
_> Feel free to come as you are._

There was a distinct formalness in Akaashi’s tone. It were as if Konoha were a work colleague he needed documents from. It was endearing. A grin tugged at Konoha’s lips.

_**To: Akaashi Keiji** _   
_**[RE: Details]** _  
_> Akaashi, _  
_> Thank you for the kind message. _  
_> I will be there at 8:30pm as discussed. _  
_I would like to thank you again for_  
_the polite invite._  
_> Please extend my _  
_gratitude to Kuroo-san._  
_> Regards,_  
_Konoha Akinori._

_**From: Akaashi Keiji** _   
_**[Subject: Ha Ha. Very Funny]** _  
_> I’m looking forward to_  
_seeing you, Konoha-san._

Something stirred in Konoha’s chest. He labelled it as a mix of excitement and nervousness. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he had done something spontaneous. But spontaneity was scarce. He always played safe and was apprehensive in trying new things—with accepting last minute party invites from near-strangers being at the top of the list.

Konoha sighed and ate the rest of his instant noodles, now cold and now soggy in texture, before prioritising a list of things to do. It was six in the evening, which left two and a half hours before he was to celebrate the end of the year with strangers, minus akaashi, who was now his only string of connection to anyone there.

Given the time, it probably wasn’t too late to back out and go back to his original plan of getting wasted alone—but that would be rude, considering he had already agreed and told Akaashi he was going.

He ran a hand through his hair, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he remembered their text conversation. Akaashi was looking forward to seeing him… He shook his head, surely he was just overthinking things. It was merely a formality to say that you were looking forward to seeing someone, right? _Right._

With a huff Konoha headed to the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt and slowly got undressed along the way and made note to pick up his trail of clothing before leaving later in the evening.

The cascade of water was soothing against his skin, a steady drum of rain over his body that had the tension bleed from between his shoulders and down the drain. It cleared his head, nerves easing as he stood under the pressure of the spray. As he massaged shampoo into his hair, he wondered how many people he would end up meeting tonight and tried to match a face to Kuroo’s name but was unsuccessful.

Konoha thought of the first time he saw Akaashi. It was a Tuesday, late in the month of April, when Konoha had been late to work upon having woken up late. He dashed out his door, unsure if he had locked it properly and opted for rushing down the fire escape, unwilling to waste time in waiting for the arrival of the elevator, before sprinting across the lobby and out the complex doors. Akaashi had been the one to hold the door open for him, expression bewildered as he caught sight of Konoha running toward him—and Konoha had been far too preoccupied to shout in gratitude over his shoulder. He couldn’t afford to lose any more time. Akaashi had been wearing green that day, something a mix of emerald and black. Perhaps it was a shirt? Or was it a sweater? That part of Konoha’s memory was fuzzy, but he remembered Akaashi’s face, memorable in the hazy mess that was his morning.

The second time was far more memorable. With a heaped basket full of dirty clothes, Konoha had occupied the complex’s shared laundry facility. He dwelled there for more than an hour, waiting for his clothes to wash and dry. He didn’t want to leave his belongings unattended; not since his jacket had been stolen at his last place. He sat in the corner, perched against a plastic stool left by another resident amongst the whir of the machines around him when the door opened. He looked up then, away from his phone and toward the source of the noise that distrusted the ambiance. Akaashi has given him a look of acknowledgment. One that Konoha returned before he redirected his attention back to his phone. It wasn’t long before Konoha’s eyes wandered back to Akaashi—a nameless stranger at the time—and observed him quietly. He wore navy today, the hem of his shirt half tucked into the sweatpants on his hips. Fringe pinned up messily by what seemed to be bobby pins. The lenses of his glasses caught the light and he hummed to himself as he loaded his washing into the machine. When he looked over his shoulder, Konoha glanced away. In the span of seconds, Konoha’s clothes had finished drying.

It was inevitable that they ran into each other, and soon enough they had done so more times than Konoha could count. Half smiles and small waves were exchanged, but there was never any verbal communication. Akaashi has just been another face he saw on the daily. Sometimes he wore glasses and sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes Konoha ran late for work and at others he was on time. It was rather mundane, but it was life.

When Konoha got out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with steam and his mirror was blurry with condensation. He dragged a line down the surface with his finger and looked back at his distorted reflection with a raised brow before he headed to his room, unable to suppress a shudder as he stepped out into the noticeably cooler air outside his bathroom.

Regardless if he knew anyone there or not, Konoha wanted to make a good impression. He glared at the bland expanse of his wardrobe that had nothing exciting other than the singular pair of ripped jeans Semi had convinced him to buy the last time they had seen each other. In hindsight he was rather thankful, at least he didn’t have to bear the humiliation of showing up in board shorts. There wasn’t much variety in his wardrobe apart from his work clothes and _everything else_ , with the latter being rather pathetic.

He slid into the jeans easily, unsure as to how he felt about the rips at his thighs being so haphazard. A plain black t-shirt was shrugged on afterward, the ends tucked into the waistband, sexured with a belt. It wasn’t a grand outfit, maybe a bit too casual despite the _‘no dress code’_ , but presentable nonetheless.

It was still too early to leave. The time read eight o’clock and left Konoha to worry himself over a snack and a can of beer he found at the back of his fridge to calm his nerves. It didn’t help. His body buzzed with a new wave of nervousness as he anxiously checked the time in five minute intervals. _Get a grip_ , he thought.

He was vaguely in tune to whatever was playing on his television. Something about the protagonist being lost, only to find resolve after being in the arms of their lover. Konoha scoffed. Despite the programme being disgustingly cheesy and predictable, he couldn’t look away. Until he was startled by his phone vibrating in his lap.

**_From: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[Subject: 8:30pm]_ **  
_> Are you coming, Konoha-san?_

_**To: Akaashi Keiji** _   
_**[RE: 8:30pm]** _  
_> Yeah _  
_> Sorry_  
_> Was watching tv _  
_and lost track of time_

Akaashi didn’t reply after that. Konoha got up with a grunt, ran another hand through his semi-damp hair and scrambled to his keys, a bag of chips and the bottle of vodka he bought earlier in the afternoon before leaving his apartment. He didn't want to show up empty handed.

The hallway was quiet, but hints of liveliness crept out from under the gaps of the doors of neighbouring apartments. Muffled conversation filtered into the hall only to be smothered by the sound of vodka lapping against the bottle and the carpet being crushed under his shoes.

The walk to Kuroo’s apartment was short, but he spent a long time standing outside his door, suspended in place, as he stared at the gold-plated _‘No. 1’_ that hung by the door. Now that he was there, he really couldn't turn back anymore. With a hesitant hand, Konoha knocked twice. He shifted nervously and looked over his shoulder and down the empty hallway. The hum of the elevator echoed in the distance along with indistinct laughter and idle chatter.

The door swung open. Konoha came face to face with an inquisitive stare with narrowed eyes and an accompanying frown.

“Who are you?” There was a pleasant sweetness to his voice that contrasted from his pointed glare. It was a sticky kind of sweet that ran a chill down Konoha’s spine. Scary.

“Um, is Akaashi here?”

He blinked back at Konoha in mild surprise before his expression bled back into something more calculating. “He is, But you didn’t answer my—“

“It’s fine, Oikawa-san. I did say that I was bringing company, didn’t I?” came Akaashi’s voice. Konoha relaxed a little.

Oikawa looked over his shoulder and found Akaashi now by his side. Akaashi ignored him, his eyes on Konoha. A smile curled at his lips. There was a choker clasped around Akaashi’s neck, a plush velvet against his skin. Konoha stared a little, eyes wandering to the loose-short sleeved button down and jeans that clad his legs. He looked nice. Konoha voiced the thought.

“So do you, Konoha-san.” Akaashi’s smile widened. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Oikawa looked back and forth between them. “Keiji-chan, you didn't tell me you were bringing a _date_.”

Akaashi’s expression was indifferent in comparison to Konoha’s wide eyes and parted lips. It wasn’t a date. They barely knew each other. This was just a spontaneous invitation to save Konoha from ending the new year on a pathetic note. And yet, Akaashi didn’t deny Oikawa’s claim. Instead, he looked up at Oikawa with a tilt of his head. “Is there a problem?”

“Of course not,” Oikawa huffed. “Well, _Konoha-san_ , before I let you in––”

“Tooru,” a new voice entered the picture. “Stop that, you’re scaring him.” Konoha had seen this face before. He quickly made the connection and matched the description that Akaashi had given him earlier to the name _‘Kuroo’_. They had crossed paths before, acutely aware of each other’s existence, much like how Konoha was with Akaashi and recalled the one time they had stood in the elevator together. Kuroo slung an arm over Oikawa’s shoulder and grinned. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly, Konoha-san.”

“Just Konoha is fine. Thanks for letting me crash your party.”

Kuroo chuckled. “Okay then, _Just-Konoha_. I guess that makes me Just-Kuroo. Anyway, don’t mention it,” he began as he dragged Oikawa away from the door. “There’s food inside if you’re hungry so don’t be a stranger.”

“I didn’t realise this was a date,” Konoha said as he followed Akaashi in moments later.

“It’s fun getting under Oikawa-san’s skin. I like keeping him on his toes,” Akaashi replied. “This can be whatever you want it to be. It doesn’t have to be a date if it makes you uncomfortable. I did invite you last minute, after all. But if you did want one, I suppose we could always arrange something at a later date?”

Konoha almost dropped the items in his hand. He caught them with a relieved sigh and adjusted his grip, the bag of chips crumpling loudly in his hand. The thought of arranging a date had tipped him off his axis. Was Akaashi interested in him? He couldn’t be. Why would he? It was hard to come up with a reply with a racing mind.

Akaashi’s touch is warm against his forearm, his smile equally so. “Relax, Konoha-san. I was teasing you. Your thoughts are rather loud.”

“Sorry,” he managed after some time.

“Why are you apologising?” Akaashi looked puzzled, with a single brow raised and a frown making a home on his lips.

“I don’t know. Force of habit?”

Akaashi relaxed and took the vodka from Konoha’s hand to set it down on the table. He could hear Kuroo and Oikawa talking somewhere in the distance, but couldn’t pinpoint where. The cityscape glittered past the sliding doors and the television has been left on to fill the silence. Akaashi looked at home as he navigated Kuroo’s kitchen as if it were his own. For a moment, he wondered how long they had known each other for. It was a thought he didn't dwell on for long, pushed to the side once Akaashi started talking.

He leaned back against the sink and observed Konoha from where he stood by the island. “There’s a few more people we’re waiting on,” he said. “They’ll be here soon. It’ll be a lot noisier.”

Kuroo’s couch was comfortable, and the alcohol in his hand was weak, but tasted good. It was something fruity and was poured from an obnoxious coloured bottle and into a mug with cats on it before it was passed his way. It turned out that Akaashi, Kuroo and Oikawa have known each other for some time, all becoming friends throughout university and have kept in touch over the years. Konoha thought of Suna and Osamu and made a note to make plans with them in the new year.

A knock at the door disrupted the flow of theirconversation. A subsequent chain of knocking followed. _It’s open!,_ Kuroo yelled from where he sat, unwilling to move, visibly relaxed as he reclined further into his seat.

“Look who I picked up!” a booming voice called from the entryway. It’s owner soon followed. A tall man with golden eyes and streaked hair appeared from around the corner. His grin was wide, enticing as he shrugged off his jacket and balled it up in his hands. He scanned the room and eyed Konoha with suspicion once he realised there was an extra person present.

Seconds later, an additional person made an appearance. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a pain,” he sighed pensively. He looked tired and overdressed in a white button down and black slacks.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa perked. He got up and walked in long strides toward the door only to be shoved away with a grunt once he was close enough. “Rude.” Oikawa huffed.

“Who is this?”

“Keiji-chan brought a date,” Oikawa explained graciously.

“A date?”

The mention of the word _'date'_ made his face warm. “It’s- it’s not—I live down the hall,” Konoha stuttered.

He learned their names shortly after, Bokuto and Iwaizumi, lifelong friends of Akaashi and Oikawa respectively. Konoha felt a little out of place amongst such a tight-knit group, more like a loose end than a woven thread.

Akaashi hovered close to his side through the night. His presence was comforting and the wall of awkwardness had melted. The alcohol had helped, too. Oikawa began pouring and mixing drinks as soon as they relocated into the kitchen. Konoha's elbow bumped into Akaashi’s periodically, who didn’t seem to mind. The horrible cat mug he had been given earlier never ran empty. The drinks were good—a little strong—but good nonetheless.

They talked about their jobs and lamented the idea of going back so soon. _I’m glad the office is closed tomorrow,_ Iwaizumi grumbled under his breath. _If another pile of Tendou’s paperwork ends up on my desk I’m really going to kill him._ Oikawa offered him another drink then; one that was far too much vodka and not enough orange juice. Iwaizumi didn’t refuse it and accepted it with a sigh. His tie ran slack around his neck, sleeves forced up to his elbows.

“Tooru knows the experience of working behind the bar first hand,” Kuroo spoke into the rim of his glass and promptly drained it of its contents with a hum. “It’s great that I can exploit him during events like these.”

“That’s rude, Tetsu,” Oikawa glared. “It’s not exploitation if I offer to do this from the kindness of my heart.”

“But you’re not kind, so I don’t see what your point is,” Iwaizumi added.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined. “You’re supposed to be on _my_ side.”

“Where do you work?” Konoha asked and broke the weak, venomed banter that sprouted between them.

 _“The Dart Bar,”_ Oikawa grinned. “You should swing by sometime. Free drinks on me,” he winked.

“He isn’t just saying that. We do actually drink there on some weekends,” Kuroo added. “You should come.”

Konoha gaped, taken aback by the invite. It was as if they had known each other for years and not a couple of hours. He circled the rim of the horrible cat mug with his finger. “Just tell me when,” he said with ease. “I finish work early on the weekends anyway. It would be nice to blow off some steam.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bokuto struck his palm between Konoha’s shoulder blades with enthusiasm. “Oikawa can make a pretty mean Long Island if you _really_ want to get fucked up.”

Konoha glanced at Oikawa, who flashed him a peace sign, his tongue peaked out from the corner of his lips as he grinned. Konoha grinned back. “I’ll take you up on that one day.”

“You’ll regret it.” Iwaizumi’s voice was a smooth timbre in his ears. A smirk quirked at his lips as his eyes shifted to Akaashi who cocked a brow in response. “The last time Akaashi had one of those he almost passed out in the bathroom.”

“Iwaizumi-san, I do hope you remember that I had plenty to drink before I was handed that beverage. I was far beyond intoxicated at that point. You and I both know that I can handle my alcohol quite well,” Akaashi frowned.

“Kou-chan had to carry you on his back and everything,” Oikawa teased. “It was cute. You’re quite the affectionate drunk Keiji- _chan_.”

Bokuto‘s grin was impossibly wide. “Yeah, ‘Kaashi, you couldn’t even stand. I still have the photos on my phone somewhere. Give me your number, Konoha. I’ll send them to you—”

Konoha listened on and stifled a laugh into his mug as the teasing continued. Akaashi was flustered. The anecdote had him visibly embarrassed. The tips of his ears were pink, and his face coloured slightly.

“Okay, okay, that’s quite enough,” Kuroo chuckled. “Keiji looks like he’s going to die. Let’s change the subject. So, what do you do for fun, Konoha?”

All the eyes that were previously on Akaashi were now on him. He wasn’t used to this––being the centre of attention. Akaashi’s eyes were on him, too. Observant. Focused. Konoha shifted under the weight of his stare.

“Uh… nothing really. I’m not a really fun person,” he said with a shrug.

“Don’t say that,” Akaashi chided. “I’m sure you’re plenty of fun.”

Konoha gave him a half-smile in return.

The countdown drew closer. Where Konoha previously didn’t care for time ticking over, he now found excitement growing in his chest. There was something about the atmosphere, the way the city became alive, and the live broadcast on television that added to the anticipation.

He stood out in the air, arms draped over the side of the railings of Kuroo’s veranda. He could see his own from where he stood and sighed when he caught sight of the decaying pot plant his mother had given him for his birthday sitting pathetically in the corner. He wondered if there was any way to save it.

Bokuto stood outside with him and mirrored his current position as he looked out onto the city. _I live over there,_ Bokuto pointed at an apartment complex that looked a lot like their own. _It's close to work and walking distance from here so I can’t really complain._ They stood side by side, refreshments in hand as they stared up the sky, impossibly dark and littered with stars.

The stars weren't as bright as they would be against the backdrop of his childhood home, but he still held the feeling of nostalgia close. If he weren’t here and instead stared up from the sky from his own apartment, perhaps the memory would have been lonely and bittersweet.

Time passed quickly—far too quick for Konoha to keep up—and at some point Akaashi had traded places with Bokuto and stood by his side, their hands barely touching as the wind ruffled at their hair. Akaashi cleaned his glasses with the cloth of his collar before he perched them back onto his face with one hand and adjusted them so that they were comfortable. Konoha had watched him. The beer he had been given some time ago sweated in his hand, the condensation was cool and wet against his skin even if the alcohol itself had begun to run warm.

Akaashi bumped their shoulders together. “Are you having a good time?”

“Mhm,” Konoha hummed. “Yeah, I am. Thanks again for you know, inviting me.”

Akaashi pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with his knuckles. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” he said in earnest. A pleasant buzz radiated under his skin, his face warm to the touch, body too warm for his clothes. Konoha knew what he looked like when he was drunk, flushed red and hazy eyed. He wondered if he were there yet.

There was a slight stain to Akaashi’s skin, too; a pretty wash of pink against his features. Konoha stared long and hard, his vision rose-coloured as Akaashi stared ahead. He looked like a dream against the cityscape. Like the male-lead in those cliche dramas his mother liked to watch in her spare time, or the love interest in the manga series Akaashi had been asked to review for publishing next month. _I look forward to seeing you,_ Konoha remembered him say. Instead there he was, looking at Akaashi.

“Konoha-san,” Akaashi’s voice broke him from his trance. “You’ve been staring for a while now. Is there something on my face?”

“N-no, no, there isn’t,” he stuttered as he averted the gaze to the almost empty roads below, embarrassed that he was caught blatantly staring. He heard Akaashi laugh. It was a light and airy sound, one that he could get used to hearing.

“Say, Konoha-san, I have a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a new year's kiss?”

“No,” Konoha said. A chuckle escaped his lips as he took a sip of his beer. It was lukewarm. “Of course I don’t.”

“Do you want one?”

Konoha’s mouth ran dry. “Huh?” His head snapped toward Akaashi, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“You know, a _kiss—_ ” Akaashi punctuated as he tapped his forefinger to his lips, “—to start the new year. They say it’s good luck.”

Konoha was rendered breathless, gaze fixated. “I don’t know how reputable your sources are.”

Akaashi skirted close the, until their shoulders were pressed flush and their faces were close in proximity. Konoha’s breath was caught in his lungs as Akaashi moved closer. His hand was warm and possessive on Konoha’s arm. His fingers danced across Konoha’s skin in a broken rhythm to a song only he could hear. His smile was sweet and probably tasted like the raspberry cruiser he had been drinking. His eyes dropped Konoha’s eyes and to his lips before they flickered back up. “They’re very reputable.” 

_Oh._

“Oh,” Kohoha whispered.

“Oh,” Akaashi echoed, albeit teasingly.

Konoha kept still, breath stifled, and face warm as Akaashi leaned in. He felt the ghost of Akaashi’s breath on his lips and let his eyes close; the beat of his heart was loud in his ears.

“Hey, you two! Get inside, there’s five minutes until midnight— was I interrupting something?”

Konoha scrambled backwards. He forced his eyes open and gripped at the railing to steady himself. He gasped and his eyes darted from Akaashi, who looked equal parts flushed and annoyed, to Bokuto who stood in the doorway that separated the veranda to the living room, who looked equal parts intrigued and embarrassed. Konoha was in a similar state.

“N-no, of course not,” Konoha stammered.

“Impeccable timing, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi grumbled. They shared a look that Konoha didn’t understand.

Bokuto strode forward and dragged them both away from the open night air and back into the festivities. Konoha was pushed into the living area with Bokuto’s hands on his shoulders before being wedged under his arm as a two minute timer appeared on the television.

Akaashi was some distance away, sandwiched between Kuroo and Oikawa. The light emitted from the television danced across his skin and refracted in his glasses—Konoha thought of his bewildered expression as he ran out the lobby doors and when they stood across from each other in the _Bottle-O_. There was something about him. Konoha couldn’t figure out what it was that drew his eyes to him.

 _“You’re staring,”_ Akaashi mouthed.

 _“So are you,”_ he mouthed back.

A minute had passed. One was left to go. As the minutes dwindled down to seconds the room erupted into chaos. The energy was explosive, sparking with excitement and good spirits. They stood huddled around the coffee table, focused on the countdown and eagerly anticipated the stroke of midnight.

With thirty seconds to go, Konoha felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned. Akaashi had maneuvered his way through the mess of enthusiasm to stand next to him. The backs of their hands brushed together. Then their fingertips. Suddenly, Konoha’s anticipation came from a different source.

Twenty seconds. He let himself be pulled from under Bokuto’s arm and into Akaashi’s space. The television screen was blocked by the broad stretch of Kuroo’s shoulders, the reporter’s voice drowned by Oikawa’s endless stream of talking and Iwaizumi’s weak attempts to shut him up. Akaashi radiated a different kind of energy. Something calmer. Serene, almost. It put Konoha under a spell.

Akaashi drew closer, much like how he did on the veranda. “About that kiss. I believe were interrupted. I could pick up where we left off, if you'd like?”

Konoha definitely wasn’t sober and the line between being tipsy and drunk was blurred into a synonymous mess. But he was very sure of one thing. Oh, how he wanted Akaashi to kiss him.

“Yeah,” Konoha nodded. “Kiss me.”

 _Ten._ Akaashi’s arms wound around his neck. Fingers carded into his hair. It was intimate. Reverent, almost.

 _Nine._ A half-empty cup of alcohol was dropped to the floor. It went unnoticed.

 _Eight._ The roar of the countdown was muffled in Konoha’s ears. It was hard to focus with Akaashi being this close.

 _Seven._ Akaashi’s eyes were green, a deep emerald, like the sweater—or was it a shirt?—he had worn as he held the door open for Konoha when he ran late. He still couldn’t remember.

 _Six._ There was a faint scar on Akaashi’s left cheek that would have gone unnoticed if his eyes wandered away too soon. Konoha wondered how he got it.

 _Five._ One of the hands that were previously in his hair had moved down to cup his face. The pad of Akaashi’s thumb smoothed over the swell of his cheek. It was an act of tender affection. Konoha’s pulse raced.

 _Four._ Their faces were close—dangerously so—and Konoha’s breath hitched.

 _Three._ Akaashi’s eyes met his, but then they ventured lower, to where Konoha wet his lips with his tongue.

 _Two._ Konoha watched as Akaashi closed the distance between them.

 _One._ “Happy new year,” Akaashi whispered before he slanted his lips over Konoha’s.

Fireworks went off outside and in Konoha’s chest.

Time slowed down. _Gentle,_ was Konoha’s first thought. _Warm,_ the second. _Oh, how to chase that feeling again,_ the third. For a split second the world around them had muted into a deafening silence. The only thing to be heard was his heartbeat, Akaashi’s content sigh and then finally reality slowly coming back. It was a brief, chaste kiss. One that had Konoha’s head spin a little despite its innocence.

He barely had the time to register the kiss as he was enveloped into a whirlwind of bone-crushing hugs from the rest of the party; it left him breathless in a different way. He called his mother whilst the others had contacted their own families, wishing them a Happy New Year and an endless amount of blessings and luck.

It was quieter on the balcony, even if he could hear Bokuto talking through the closed sliding doors. He replied to Semi’s messages first, then Suna’s, followed by Osamu’s. This year was going to be a good one, he was sure of it.

As Konoha turned to make his way back inside, the sliding door opened with Akaashi stepping out into the balcony moments later to join him.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Konoha replied. “Happy New Year," he said to fill the silence.

“Happy New Year,” Akaashi said for the second time.

He was mostly sober, senses alive, vision now less hazy and more crisp around the edges. The pink flush was still evident on Akaashi’s skin, down his neck and contrasted prettily against the choker there. Konoha fixated on it, before he looked back up.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I just finished replying to some messages. I called my mother. My brother managed to make it home in time. She was happy I called. You?”

“I called my parents, and then Bokuto-san’s parents. And made some promises to go and see them soon.” Akaashi stood in front of him with something searching in his expression.

“So.”

“So?”

“About earlier.”

“Ah,” Konoha swallowed. “Was it bad?”

Akaashi chuckled and shook his head. “No. It was quite the opposite.”

It was as if they were playing a game, a constant push and pull that was more testing than deliberate teasing. Perhaps it had always been this way, the challenge beginning when Konoha had happened upon him in the _Bottle-O_. Konoha had relinquished the reins and left Akaashi in control.

“I see. I’m glad that it was enjoyable.”

Akaashi snorted. “No need to be so formal Konoha-san.”

“Speak for yourself.” There was a playful roll of his eyes. “I don’t see anyone else here using honorifics.”

“Would you prefer something more personal then. _Akinori_ perhaps?”

Konoha let out a laugh. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? If that’s how you want to play I’m sure you have no problem with me returning the favour, _Keiji_.”

Push and pull. Akaashi wasn’t expecting his given name to roll off Konoha's tongue the way it did and cleared his throat. It was hard to miss the new dusting of pink on his cheeks and how he averted his eyes. But as the seconds passed, Akaashi’s more indifferent demeanour returned. As Akaashi stepped forward, Konoha took a step back. When Konoha’s back met the railing, Akaashi had settled next to him. He turned so that they faced each other, an echo of how they were before.

“Do you want another?”

“Another what?”

“The fact that you’re trying to play dumb is awfully endearing even though we both know you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Akaashi said. “But if I have to spell it out for you—Do you want another kiss?”

“It seems like you want to do this more than I do.”

“Mm… maybe I do. Is that a problem? Are you going to say no?”

_Gentle._

_Warm._

_Oh, how to chase that feeling again._

“I wouldn’t say no,” Konoha found himself saying.

A small smile. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

Konoha hummed. He was dragged forward by the front of his shirt until their mouths crashed together in a clumsy clash of lips and teeth. Apologies were murmured between them before there was silence. Another kiss, one more brief and soothing than the last and before Konoha could pull away he was drawn closer.

Akaashi had wound an arm around his neck as his free hand reached between them to move his glasses from his face so that they sat nestled in his hair, out of the way. Konoha’s hands faltered until they settled at Akaashi’s hips before his arms eventually snaked around his waist.

Konoha let Akaashi part his lips with his tongue, hissed at the sensation of teeth at his lower lip, the feeling of Akaashi’s fingers tangled at the hair of his nape.

The taste of raspberry cruisers was sweet on his tongue and mingled with the stale taste of beer on his own. There was heat present, both in the act they were doing and in the air around them. The city was alive. Music filled the streets and drifted in the air. Akaashi smiled against his mouth.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, kissing against the railing of Kuroo’s balcony in the early morning of the new year. There was a sober thought in his mind that they were being watched, and if he were any more sober, he would be embarrassed—but it was hard to concentrate. He thought that having Akaashi kiss him was intoxicating in its own way.

Konoha woke up the next morning sprawled out onto his couch. The right side of his body had almost slumped all the way onto the floor and his neck felt awfully stiff and protested when he tried to stretch. There was a bland taste in his mouth. His eyes were tired and his legs felt suffocated and restless from having spent the night in jeans.

He wasn’t too sure how he had gotten back into his own apartment, but was thankful that the promise of collapsing into his bed was a closer destination than expected.

Konoha pressed his eyes shut as he sat upright, not too fond of the way his head spun—or how his vision swam—and took a moment to regain his bearings. Once the world had grinded to a halt he allowed his eyes to open. Sunlight crept through every open window and filled the room. He blinked and allowed himself some time to adjust to the brightness of his living room as ran his hands over his face. 

As he did so, he had recollections of the night before. Of the last minute run to the grocery store, Akaashi in the aisle, the invitation, the walk home, Oikawa‘s intimidating front, Kuroo’s lazy smile, Bokuto’s enthusiasm, Iwaizumi’s loosened tie, the songs that carried in the wind, _“Do you have a new year’s kiss?”_ , the countdown, the whisper of _Happy New Yea_ r—and Akaashi’s lips against his own. 

“Ah,” Konoha said to no one in particular. It was an eventful evening. One that he would have missed if he had chosen to stay home. 

His phone sat on the coffee table next to his keys. The screen came to life and his message tone ricocheted into the room before it faded back into silence. He reached for it and cursed when it almost slipped from his grasp. Once it was secure in his hand he padded away from the living room and toward the comforting darkness of his bedroom.

He checked the time. It was midday. And under the time, the preview of several messages. He stumbled out of his jeans and into bed before he unlocked his phone to open his message bank. He felt a wave of drowsiness as the covers were shunted over his body.

There were messages from Suna.   
_> We should go to that one ramen place before it closes down_  
_> I've been craving the bamboo shoot and potato salad_

Another from his mother.   
_> Aki-chan, your father and I are coming into town next week. _  
_> Do you have time for us? I have some presents for you._

A message from Semi.   
_> Aakinori, i misS you. _  
_> Do you rmemember when we wre fifteen andgot kicked __out of the sinema bc wenwere laughingntoo loud?_  
Konoha remembered. Also, was Semi drunk?

One from an unknown number.   
_> Hey, Konoha! It’s Bokuto! _  
_> I stole your details from ‘Kaashi. _  
_> Hope you don’t mind~ let’s get food sometime :D_

Amongst the mess of his inbox resided messages from Akaashi.

**_From: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[Subject: hey, hey, hey]_ **  
_> Hey, lover boy._  
_> Hope you slept well and_  
_had sexy dreams about me._  
_> I had some about you._  
_> Maybe I can tell you_  
_about them sometime_  
_over dinner? ; - )_

Konoha jolted and shot up into a sitting position. He stared back at his screen with a slack jaw and wide eyes. He scrolled up and compared Akaashi’s previous messages with the one that was most recent. This didn’t sound like Akaashi at all. Long gone were the formalities and playful sarcasm. In its place, something more direct. Vulgar. Maybe his hangover was playing tricks on him.

** _To: Akaashi Keiji_ **  
**_[RE: hey, hey, hey]_ **  
_> Did you really have dreams_  
_about me, Akaashi?_  
_> I find that hard to believe._

_ **From: Akaashi Keiji** _  
_**[Subject: dreams]** _  
_> I did. They were vivid, too._  
_> I can't really explain_  
_what happened with words._  
_> But I’m more than happy_  
_to show you what happened_  
_in them._

Konoha stared down at his phone with a slack jaw and a frantic heartbeat. He couldn't figure out if he was dreaming or awake. Surely, this could not be real. Before Konoha could formulate a coherent reply amidst the mess of his thoughts, another text came through.

 ** _From: Akaashi Keiji_**  
**_[Subject: I apologise]_**  
_> Konoha-san, I apologise_  
_for those messages._  
_> Bokuto-san had taken my_  
_phone whilst I was taking a_  
_shower._  
_> In case you think I am lying_  
_here is photo proof that I am not._  
_>_ [IMG_0056.jpg]

Sure enough, Bokuto had appeared beside Akaashi, who had a towel around his neck and evidently damp hair. Bokuto flashed a peace sign whilst Akaashi looked unimpressed. The tips of his ears were red from embarrassment. With a laugh, Konoha allowed himself to collapse against the mattress.

** _To: Akaashi Keiji_ **  
**_[RE: I apologise]_ **  
_> You are forgiven._  
_> Tell Bokuto that he almost_  
_got me there._  
_> Almost._

** _From: Akaashi Keiji_ **  
**_[Re: I apologise]_ **  
_> Bokuto-san wants to_  
_know what gave him away._  
_> (once again, I am sorry_  
_for this)_

**_To: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[RE: I apologise]_ **  
_> I didn’t know it was him,_  
_but I didn’t think it was you?_  
_> (also, don't worry about it)_  
_> It wasn’t formal enough._  
_> You also don’t strike me_  
_as the type of person to_  
_send sexts in the middle of_  
_the afternoon._

**_From: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[Subject: (blank)]_ **  
_> A fair argument._  
_> Bokuto-san says that_  
_you win this round._  
_> Congratulations on_  
_your victory._

**_To: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[RE: (blank)]_ **  
_> What do I get for winning?_

**_From; Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[Subject: First Place]_ **  
_> Bragging rights._  
_> However, if you did want_  
_to go out for dinner sometime_  
_please do let me know._

**_To: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[Subject: First Place]_ **  
_> Are you asking me_  
_out on a date, Akaashi?_

**_From: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[Subject: Take a hint]_ **  
_> Once again playing dumb._  
_> You should really use those_  
_critical thinking skills you learnt_  
_throughout your years at school._  
_> But yes, this is me asking_  
_you out on a date._  
_> If you’re free and willing, that is._

Konoha hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time and hadn’t been on a date in longer. The concept of it was exciting and thought of sitting across from Akaashi over a shared meal made it even more so.

It was a strange turn of events. He wouldn’t have thought that spending New Year’s Eve with company would have resulted in him making out with his neighbour in the early hours of the morning.

He wondered what would happen if he were to run late to work again. If he would opt for the flight of stairs down the fire escape in favour of the elevator that took too long to reach its destination. Would he sprint across the lobby, lungs burning, body on fire from over exertion as he fled the building. He thought that maybe Akaashi would be there, holding the door open with one hand. Would he be wearing a sweater or a shirt? Did the light catch in the lenses of his glasses? Maybe they would talk while their clothes ran through the spin-cycle, then through the drier. Perhaps they would sit on the crappy plastic chairs left by other residents in the ambiance of the laundry room, talking about everything and nothing. Maybe work? Maybe leisure? Maybe something more?

Konoha’s mind raced. Akaashi was attractive. There was something about him that Konoha was drawn to. Maybe it was a little silly, they weren’t exactly friends nor were they strangers. They were neighbours, existing in each other’s orbits out of proximity—with worlds colliding with the shattering force of a kiss at midnight.

His previous memories of Akaashi’s bewildered expression melted into something else; of glances across the room and rosy cheeks, of light touches of fleeting fingers and the drag of Akaashi's mouth over his.

**_To: Akaashi Keiji_ **   
**_[RE: Take a hint]_ **  
_> I am free and willing_  
_> Just give me a time_  
_and place and I’m all yours_

oh, to chase that feeling again.

**Author's Note:**

> listen, konoha is a qt and i got sad always seeing him as the rebound or having an unrequited love in fic. after yelling _“let him live and fuck”_ into the gc for far too long, this fic was born hehe
> 
> i've only recently gotten into hq and this is also the first fic ive actually finished and posted in two years, so i'm buzzing LMAO
> 
> come talk to me on twt @aceskeiji


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